


Whiplash

by 1000lux



Series: Vegetarian Summer Entrées [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Red Dragon (2002), Red Dragon - Thomas Harris
Genre: ...but eventually, ...not in this part, Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Past established Relationship, Post Season 1, Reflection, canon up to end of the series, hurt/comfort?, josh is not Will's son (canon book), much much angst, tooth fairy, troubled!Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-22 05:45:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000lux/pseuds/1000lux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the beginning of Red Dragon. Will and Hannibal meet again for the first time since Hannibal went to jail. They have to work together to find the Tooth Fairy.<br/>But either of them has his own agenda.</p><p>Will wants to understand.</p><p>Hannibal wants Will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strawberries With Whipped Cream

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction, I own neither rights to the characters nor to the series or the books or the movies.
> 
> This is part of my series, where Hannibal escapes from prison and he and Will get back together.  
> This story is set before the actual first part of the story. But they can be read in either order.
> 
> The only thing from part 1 that you need to know before you read this is that Will and Hannibal actually were in a relationship. Except of that the past events are basically canon from the TV series.

                         ********************************************************************************

I wanna free myself with someone else  
but there's nowhere left to turn

(Sugababes - Now you're gone)

************************

 

 

                                                            REFLECTION

And again he's waking up in that hospital bed. His side a irritating mixture of itch and pain.  
Looking in their faces and not knowing what's worse the suspicion or the pity.  
He can practically feel Freddy Lounds eyes crawling over his body. Eyes wide in exitement.  
A bloodhound out for his prey.  
His picture in all the papers: »Crazy profiler that caught the cannibal still in coma!«  
»Was he really innocent?!«, »Exclusive pictures right from the hospital!«,  
»Will Graham awoken from coma!«, »Now! Close-up of THE scar! Only here!«,  
»Now, live at the hospital! Watch Special Agent Graham have a nervous breakdown!«,  
»Back because of great demand! Will Graham nervous breakdowns: Monday-Friday,  
from 2pm-6pm! Come early, get the best seats!«, »Order your Taddler subscription now and  
get free Chesapeake Ripper collector cards!«

His laugh rings through the house unnaturally loud. From a remote point his dreams are  
actually pretty funny. Bordering on bizarre. If they didn't still have him waking up  
soaked in sweat every morning, long before his alarm goes off.  
Freddy Lounds showed pretty bad taste in the choice of her headlines. One has to  
give her though, hers were never as bad as those his mind spins up every night.

He moves on. He leaves all this behind himself. He runs as fast as he can, getting away from  
both Jack and Hannibal as far as possible. He even starts dating.  
Once he's at a guy's place and he makes this joke about hoping that he's not going to eat  
him, when he says he's going to cook for him. The guy doesn't find it so funny. He keeps such  
remarks to himself from then on.

He switches flats three times after Jack's shown up on his doorstep each time. Then he resignes.  
Running from the FBI looks so easy when you see serial killers doing it.  
He moves to a houseboat and throws out his telephone.  
Florida is good. The sun is good. It makes him look almost healthy. Thankfully Freddy Lounds  
refrained from following him even here. He couldn't rule out drowning her right at the landing  
right now.

Her name is Molly. She is pretty. Reassuring. Cheerful. Her looks remind him of Alanna a bit.  
It's a plus.

At one point he tells her about his past. Not all the "gory details", but, well... Nothing that matters,  
really, as he can't talk about Hannibal. But anyway. He tells her about the Shrike. About the  
encephalitis. When she's still there in the morning he proposes to her.  
She moves into his houseboat with her son.

It's just that simple.

 

                                                          ********************

                                                            CONTINUE

Jack's there again. I can't say it's a surprise. He plays the compassion angle, laying all the pictures  
in front of me. He tells me only to take a look, when we both know I'll be staying until the guy is  
caught.  
"Are you trying run me into the ground?" I ask again, more with resigned curiousity by now. "Are  
you going to sleep at night, once my blood is on your hands, Jack?"  
"That won't happen." He says with that stoic sangfroid of a leader used to economizing his ressources.  
"Are you going to have my back this time?" I ask with a bitter laugh. "Or are you going to wash your  
hands of me at the next best opportunity? Again."  
"The evidence against you was considerable." He says as if that explains everything. For a moment  
I loose my composure.  
"I DON'T CARE! HOW. CONSIDERABLE. THE. EVIDENCE. IS!" I take a deep breath and hope that Molly  
hasn't heard me inside the house. Breathe in. I readjust my glasses, squeezing the bridge of my  
nose for a moment. Breathe out. "I want you to give me your solemn word, that this won't end  
with me inside a cell. Again. I don't care whether prison or hospital." I add with the bizarre feeling  
of a private joke.  
"You have it." He doesn't hesitate a second.  
I don't believe a word of it.

********************

And then they send me to him. I haven't seen him for a year. Not since the trial, which might  
as well have been mine, for the shit storm that rained down on me. Especially after they found  
out about our »affair«. Of course I must have been guilty.  
I remember the headlines my very special friend Ms. Lounds used to issue each morning.  
»Gay Cannibal Couple! Did they also sodomize their victims?!«  
»FBI Agent helps lover to murder people!"«  
People had my last arrest still vivid in mind. So had I and I had no desire to return to the mental  
institution of Dr. Chilton to maybe take the cell beside Hannibal.

"Really, Jack? You want me to go to him? What happened to just take a look at the pictures?"  
Jack frowns at me, looking pretty much like what I expect I look short before I get a headache.  
"I think we both were aware at the time that that's bullshit. We're going to assure your safety.  
There will always be agents for your protection."  
"Protect me from him? What's he's going to do from inside his cell? Besides we both know he's  
not going to talk unless we're undisturbed." I laugh mirthlessly "The real question is: Who is  
going to protect me from the press? You don't have to tell me this is kept confidential. We both  
know there'll be press swarming outside once we get out. But I swear to you if this somehow  
gets to Molly and Josh, I'm going to kill you myself! Are we clear?!" I feel my hands shake with  
supressed anger and trepidation of what's going to happen next.  
"We're clear, Will. Your family's safety has priority."

***********************

I look at him through the safety glass. I can't say he's changed much. My hands still tremble.  
I keep them in the pockets of my FBI-issued jacket.  
He sees it nevertheless. Like an animal he smells weakness.  
"Are you scared of me Will?" He asks, one eyebrow quirked.  
"No." I shake my head sadly "I see nothing here to be scared off."  
"And yet you are." He answers smiling.  
"I'm not here to be analyzed by you." I shot back a little too acerbically to be taken for mere  
impatience.  
"I understand, though, that you're here to ask for my professional opinion."  
"Yeah. Your professional opinion as a serial killer, not as a psychiatrist."  
He laughs. He laughs at me. And I'm short of turning around and leaving, if I wasn't sure Jack  
would send me back here, until I have the answers he's looking for.  
"The Tooth Fairy. Have you heard of the case?"  
"I'm a little lacking in news media of any kind in here, you see, Will."

************************

I'm shaking and sweating once I've left. It doesn't help that outside Freddy Lounds and her mob  
are waiting for me and I look like I'm either pre or post a psychotic breakdown.  
I tell Jack that I hate him while he drives me back to my hotel.  
I call Molly.  
Later I cry.  
I dream of Hannibal that night. Like every night. Only the setting changes. Whether it's a feathered  
stag that accompanies him. Whether we're eating human body parts together. Whether he's  
showing up at the houseboat. Or recently him showing up at the crime scenes of the Tooth Fairy.  
Funny enough, I never actually dream about him hurting me. Though awake I'm pretty sure he  
wouldn't even hesitate. And to my utter mortification in my dreams, we're still together.  
I should probably talk to a therapist about this, but understandably, my trust in that particular  
field of work is pretty thin right now.

*************************

It takes till our third meeting that I have build up the nerve to ask. He's in the gym this time, walking  
in a circle, his hands tied to a rope that restricts his movements. He should look undignified.  
"Did you want to eat me too?"  
"Oh, my dear Will, I wanted a whole lot more than that."  
I'm not sure that answers my question, yet I'm out of alternate questions. I haven't realised how  
close I'd gotten. He makes a sudden move towards me and at once he's nearly close enough for  
our faces to touch. I'm not sure whether he wants to bite or kiss me. I don't care to find out. To  
my utter relief that's how far his rope will let him. I can't even find the strength to move away.  
Or flee for that matter.  
"Still so scared of me?" He asks almost caringly. "Does your scar still hurt?"  
"Go to hell." I press out between gritted teeth.

*************************

They're sending messages between each other. He's given him my adress. Not where I stay at  
the hotel, but that of my houseboat. Jack reaches them in time.  
I'm boiling with anger when I return to his cell.  
"How dare you" I don't even have the words "How dare you drag my family into this!"  
"They're not your family, Will. Your dogs are more of a family than them. They're just your  
attempt to fill the void I left there. You, Abigail and me, we were a family."  
"You killed Abigail!" I more choke out than scream.  
He just sits down again, calmly smiling, waiting out the end of my outburst. I'm glad he's back in  
his cage, because otherwise I'd try to strangle him.  
I calm myself, taking readjusting my glasses as an opportunity to rub the bridge of my nose. It's  
really become a tick with me lately. My fingers even wandering there, when I don't even have my  
glasses on.  
"How..How did you get my address?"  
"A mutual friend of ours was willing to provide me with such information of my choosing in  
exchange for, let's just say, the exclusive book rights to »The Chesapeake Ripper«."  
"How did she get that in here?! You weren't allowed to have visitors."  
"Well, that's for you to figure out."

***************************

"Do you have even an idea what lives you're playing with?! People could have died because of  
you! People I care about!"  
"I have no idea what you're talking about."  
She lies at me. She looks me straight in the face and lies to me with a smile. About the lives  
of my family. I picture in my head how I take out my service revolver and shoot her in the chest,  
then sink to my knees and use the pistol grip to beat down on her face again and again until I'm  
no longer able to make out features.  
"One day, one of your little games is going to backfire on you, Ms. Lounds. And maybe then you  
realise that it's people you're playing with here."  
"Likewise, Special Agent Graham."

***************************

"He's going to kill her." I state, not sure what my feelings towards that subject are.  
"We're going to watch her 24/7." Jack assures me. "And even if, do you really care? I don't."  
It's a bad idea we know it all. Nevertheless we do the interview. Because Jack's desperate. And  
I? I don't feel compelled to do more then the mandatory "I want it to be officially noted that  
I think this is morally wrong.", as Alanna would say.  
Do I want her to be gone? Yes.  
Do I wish for her death? No.  
Am I lying to myself? Probably.

****************************

Of course he takes her. He takes her so fast, we've barely read her article ourselves. Two officers  
dead behind her flat. Two in front, who haven't seen a thing.  
I'm really mad with Jack now.  
"Four officers! Seriously?! If that's you're idea of safety I should probably pay some private  
security agency to protect my family!" And I probably should.  
But now's not the time for fights, because Freddy Lounds might not have even have hours left.  
There's a difference between thinking about the theoretical death of someone and negligent  
homicide. And I refuse to have that death on my conscience.

****************************

"You know where he lives. Tell. Me." I urge, every second that passes gets us closer to finding  
a mutilated corpse. "Tell. Me. Where. He. Is."  
"You don't even care about her." He looks at me puzzled but curious. "Don't tell me you haven't  
wondered why I haven't killed her of all people."  
"She is a human being. And she doesn't deserve this." I don't know what kind of ethics I'm  
appealing to here.  
"I agree with you on the first. But I'm of the opinion that our dear Ms. Lounds made her bed  
quite herself."  
"Help. Me." And then again much more quiet "Help me."  
"Ahh." He looks at me fondly.

 

                ********************************************************************************


	2. Death by Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will runs to save Freddy Lounds.  
> The Tooth Fairy escapes and Will finds himself facing Hannibal and their shared past again.  
> Will isn't sure any longer what exactly it is he wants from Hannibal.
> 
> The end of their story that is only the beginning of the next one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got pretty long, but there was really no way I could have divided it. So here it is. 
> 
> Thank you so much for kudos and comments on the first chapter! ﾟ+｡:.ﾟヽ(*´∀`)ﾉﾟ.:｡+ﾟ
> 
> Some of the dialogues are taken from the movie or the books.

 

*******************

He calls me up and he's like "I still love you"  
And I'm like - I'm just - I mean this is exhausting,  
You know We are never getting back together,  
Like ever

(Taylor Swift - We are never ever getting back together)

*********************

"I will help you tonight. And you will come back here. And we will talk. About whatever subject I   
care to broach. Agreed?" I can't but nod.   
Two words. A street name, a number. Whispered against the glass, so I have to get close to hear  
it.  
"Take care tonight, Will."

*********************

I rush there myself, barely managing to send Jack a text with the address. This bitch isn't going   
to die on me because I took a moment too long for technicalities.  
Going to a serial killer's house all alone with the police at least half an hour behind you is hardly   
a technicality though. It occurs to me too late, that saving Freddy Lounds is maybe not important   
enough to die myself in the vain attempt to save her. Because I'm already there.  
The old mansion looks like it's right out of a Frankenstein movie. The doors, like in every good   
horror movie, aren't locked.  
In my mind I calculate the likelihood of Hannibal and the Tooth Fairy having planned all this. Of   
him already knowing that I'm on my way. Improbable. But with Hannibal nothing really is.

He looks different than I had imagined him. Imposing. Yes, physically. But most of all he looks   
sad. Not at the moment, but a complete layer underneath.   
Hannibal would maybe say that he smells of sadness.   
He looks at me with such consternation that I decide with relief that he didn't know about my coming.   
Unless he's a better actor than I would have judged him. And so far Hannibal was the only one where   
I've been mistaken. He recognizes me immediately though.  
"Special Agent Graham."  
"Mr...?"  
"Dolarhyde." He answers seemingly automatic, because I see him pause immediately afterwards.   
He wanted to say something else. Freddy Lounds sits tied to a chair, facing a screen where a   
slideshow is currently running. The great red dragon.  
She looks more discomposed than I've ever seen her. And from the look on her face she could think   
of someone whom she'd trust more with her rescue.  
I assess the situation. He has a knife to her throat. And I have my gun. So far my position is not   
so bad. Though physically he's clearly my superior. Untying her will also take time. So Mr. Dolarhyde   
should preferably be dead or restraint before I start anything in that direction.  
But as long as he has the knife there's no real basis for me to act. And the fine line of blood   
running down her throat tells me that Mr. Dolarhyde can't deal with stress very well. So I better  
hurry.  
"Mr. Dolarhyde,.."  
"I AM the dragon!"  
"Dragon, we should talk."  
"What's there to talk? Your part is not to talk but to bear witness. You are privy to a great becoming   
and you recognize nothing. It is in your nature to do one thing correctly: before me you rightly   
tremble." He faces Freddy Lounds and I get a view of his bare back, covered with an enormous   
dragon tattoo. "Fear is not what you owe me, Ms. Lounds. You owe me awe.”   
In my head I compile all I know about him. All I've seen during my walk through the house. Shifting   
bits and pieces of information. Swapping the random with the substantial, while he continues his   
speech.  
"And behold a great red dragon..."  
Dragon. The Great Red Dragon. The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun. William Blake.   
Dragon. Strength. Physical. Mental? Harelip operation. Slight lisp. Self-consciousness. Interview.   
Impotence. Sexual Insecurity. Family pictures? Grandmother. Old. Stern. Cruel? Dominant female   
authority. Insecurities with women. Contact to Hannibal. Guide. Role Model. Father figure? Search   
for acceptance. Acceptance through power.  
Freddy has both insulted him and is a woman. A self-confident woman. The kind that would look  
down on people like him. That's bad. I have to stop her from antagonizing him even more.  
"Let her go. She had nothing to do with it. We gave her false information."  
He seems ripped out of his little performance.  
"What are you talking about?"  
"We gave her false information, so we would lure you out and you'd attack her. She's as oblivious   
as you are." I add with a sneer. "She's nothing but bait." I make myself ready to shoot any   
second. "What you didn't realise that much?" I let out a little chuckle. "You're the Dragon? But it   
looks like you're the one that recognizes nothing. Wow, I really wonder what Hannibal sees in you.   
For what I see you're just a big disappointment."  
I see the muscles tense from his arms to his neck. Brute strength ready to lash out any second. Now I   
only have to make sure the lash is directed in the right direction.  
"The SWAT Team is probably already outside, so if I was you I'd make some use of the time you   
still have. Go ahead cut her throat. You'd do me a favor. For what it concerns her I'm just as bad   
as you. Though, of course, not so ugly."  
That does it. He let's go of Freddy and lunges towards me. My first shot only grazes his arm   
because I'm still careful not to shoot too close to her lest she gets hit by a bullet going through   
him. But that was basically the timespan I had. With barely three strides he's closed the distance  
to me and crashes into me like a train. We hit the ground and his weight knocks the breath out   
of me. In between I realise that I've lost my glasses. I know I've hit him a second time somewhere   
in the torso, while we collided. But obviously I didn't hit anything vital. I try to reach for my gun   
of which I lost grasp when I hit the floor. Stupid mistake. But it can happen when you're smothered   
by 200 pounds solid human.  
The moment I've touched the grip, my arm gets smashed against the edge of the cupboard   
behind us, the same time my head gets smashed into the floor, his grip painful in my hair. Way   
to go, Will. If Jack got lost on his way I'm going to be really really pissed. Though probably not   
for long. I think my arm is broken. Funny. It occurs to me that I've never before broken a bone. I was   
a pretty resilient kid.  
He hurls me towards Freddy Lounds by my hair.  
"You too will bear witness to the rise of the dragon." He tells me with zeal in his voice. "And  
after that I'll leave you and Ms. Lounds as a gift for my dear friend. And he'll see that I am  
worthy to stand beside him.  
"Yeah, beside him in a cell."  
He lunges towards me again and I use struggling as an opportunity to kick over Freddy Lounds' chair.  
She uses the time out of his direct focus to cut the ties on her hands with the pocket knife I'd  
handed her while leaning against her chair. He didn't even care to search my combat boots  
(which I wore specifically to hide the knife in them). Somehow I don't seem like the guy that  
takes concealed weapons with him.  
When she gets up to run, I do all I can to keep clinging to him to slow him down. With one hand  
broken and the other twisted in his grasp I do the only thing left and bite him in the throat   
clinging to him like some hunting dog to a bear. We crash against a wall. His hands are painfully  
clawed into my head and my neck, as if he's going to snap it any second, which most likely wouldn't  
be very hard for him.  
"Hannibal won't be very happy if you kill me." It's the first thing I can think of that could reach him in  
any way to delay my imminent death.  
Indeed he freezes for a moment. The silence of both of us, letting us hear the noise of boots coming up the   
stairs. I just go for it and ram my knee in one of his gunshot wounds. He drops me. I hiss in pain when I land   
on my bad arm, the room flickering before my eyes for a moment. Then I see Dolarhyde jump out a window. The next   
moment Jack and the SWAT-Team rush into the room.

*********************

My arm is in fact broken as it turns out. Freddy on the other hand has gotten out of it more or less   
unharmed. She's going to sue the bureau for knowingly endangering her. She sure gets back on her feet  
quick.  
Jack drives me home. The sun will be up in a few hours. Not much time for sleep. Jack's said something.   
I look over at him questioningly.  
"I said I'll position officers all around your apartment. Are you going to be okay on your own?"  
"I've always been, haven't I? There's no need for guards around my place, if he wanted to come for me he'd   
have done so before. It's not exactly a secret that I work the case and you don't need to be MI5 to find out   
my address." I sound more tired than sardonic. "He's not interested in hurting me physically. He will always   
try to go for my family."  
I end the conversation by closing my eyes and leaning my head against the cool of the window. Then I just keep   
waiting for the swirl of thoughts in my head to slow down.  
Somehow I'd hoped that this would end tonight. That we'd catch the Tooth Fairy, Dolarhyde. We were so close. I   
hoped I wouldn't have to fulfill my side of the deal.   
Hannibal would consider it incredibly rude. Though, in the real world people would consider it rude to frame   
your lover for murder.  
On the other hand, I'm not yet done with him. There are questions I'm going to ask myself for the rest of my   
life if I won't have the answers now.  
How much was real? Really? Am I really that desperate?!   
Of course nothing was real!   
Can I even believe one word that is coming out of your mouth?  
How? How could you? WhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhy?!  
How dare you call it love?!  
Why am I still wanting it to be real?!  
Why didn't you kill me?  
"We're there, Will."

*********************

"Hello, Will." He looks up from the newspaper (he acquired God knows how) and smiles at me,  
reminding me of times I'd wake up in the morning to find him in my kitchen just like that. "You  
look like you've had a rough night. What happened to your arm?"  
"Isn't it in the paper?"  
"The regular newspapers sadly aren't half as informative as Ms. Lounds website. Unfortunately  
I don't have Internet access here."  
"Funny." I return acerbically. Wow, I'm really testy this morning, (even more then usual, given that  
sarcasm has become my constant companion these days). I guess lack of sleep and nearly dying   
should justify it, on the other hand neither is really unusual for me.  
"As I read you've managed to save Ms. Lounds. Very altruistic."  
I huff in annoyance and rub my sleep-depraved eyes.  
"Look, I don't want to be here. I don't want to listen to your narcissistic rambling."  
"I rather enjoy our talks. And you're also here for something other than your all-consuming  
need to save and protect."  
I can't stand the way he looks at me, seeing too much.  
"I'm here for the sole reason of Jack making me be here."  
"Then I probably should send him a gift basket."  
"With what in it? Maybe a heart and some kidneys?"  
"You really need to get over that grudge. This deep rooted anger and loss of trust otherwise  
will poison every relationship you enter. You need to open up again. It's probably easier for you   
to interact with little Josh, than Molly. Children are much more like dogs. More emotion, less  
thinking."  
"Are you psychoanalysing me? Seriously?!" I'm hit by a deep rush of regret as the familiar   
words escape my mouth.   
But he's right. Me and Molly. We're good we work. But I constantly have to work. Keeping up my   
facade, not letting her in too deep. Trying to prevent her from seeing how damaged I really am.   
I probably do her wrong in assuming she'd not understand me, comfort me. But most people process   
misery only to one point, where they'll just check out.   
He was the closest I ever came to having a relationship where I didn't need to hide, where I   
didn't need to uphold a resemblance of normality that sometimes is as out of my range  
as my thinking is for others.   
It was nearly perfect. Except of course, it had all been fake.

**********************

I take a look at his workplace. Photos. Interesting. No one, of course, suspected anything. 'He always seemed   
to be such a nice guy', 'A little shy.', 'Always polite.'  
He's always isn't he? When was there ever a serial killer where you were told afterwards 'I've seen it  
coming miles away.'  
It's the normal people that show such strong emotions. We crazy people just keep it covered until we lash  
out.

**********************

"Do you think I didn't love you because of the things I did to you?"  
"I know" I hear my own voice sounding raspy and forced. "you didn't."  
"Let me convince you of the opposite."  
I know I can't take much more now. I'm being made a fool of. But the shame isn't what hurts the  
most. My voice nearly breaks with emotion. Blind rage, that just wants to destroy everything that   
meant something to him, battling sadness that just wants to surrender and wallow in the deaththrows  
of this sick relationship forever. A hurt that has dwelled so long, deep down, it has run it's edges   
off cutting open my insides. A dull pain. All-encompassing. Omnipresent.   
"You knew" I press my lips together. "I had encephalitis." Breathe. "And yet you decided" My   
voice gets a little higher, a little shrill. "instead of letting me have treatment, you'd rather study   
me a little longer." I pause, not long enough for him to fit in a retort. "Is that" Now I'm sounding   
positively manic. "the kind of love you were talking about?!"  
"Will." His eyes are so warm and caring. They make it so easy to believe him. And so horrible,   
horrible when you realise you were wrong.  
I can't take this one second longer.  
"I'm leaving." I rasp out, voice thick with unshed tears.  
"We had a deal, Will."  
"Fuck you."  
Then I'm out.

**********************

We find out about a girlfriend, also at his workplace. Reba Smith. She's blind. He hasn't contacted  
her.   
I'm still reeling on the drive there. I see myself in her blank expression. Her face muscles running in an  
open loop, while her brain tries to grasp what has just happened. She can't believe it. She's horrified.   
We leave officers with her.

**********************

"You're a lying sack of shit! And there's nothing else to be said between us!  
You used me. You abused me."  
"And yet you can't deny that there was a certain connection between us."  
"I certain connection?! I loved you! I thought you loved me! Can you imagine what it feels like to be  
spit in the face like that?! To be made a fool to such a degree?! To know that to the one person you'd thought  
you'd found that understands you, you where nothing but game?!"  
"If it helps you, I hadn't planned for it to go that way. But you were just too intriguing and I couldn't stay   
away."  
"No, it really doesn't." My mouth feels like I swallowed ash.  
"Isn't the way this has ended" He gestures towards the plexiglas dividing us. "proof enough that I hadn't planned   
this? That this got out of hand horribly."  
"No, it only proofs that I am better than you."  
"So, what would help you?"  
"Some wrongs can't be undone, can't be forgiven."  
"Then tell me, Will, where's the line? To what point can there be forgiveness? Is it the betrayal or the deeds   
itself?"  
"Oh, are we talking about ethics, now?"  
"Oh no, Will, we are talking about you and me."

**********************

I visit the girlfriend again. Her place is really nice. She offers me tea. I ask her a few things about dealing with   
being blind. She tells me that life for someone blind isn't that much different than for anybody else. I blush,   
feeling a little stupid. She laughs delighted.

**********************

"You assume that it was easy for me to hurt you. I can assure you that every single time was very  
painful for me."  
"Then I have to compliment you on the admirable ease with which you did it."

**********************

I think I feel a connection to Reba because she's basically been through the same as me. Dating a monster.  
Having been deceived by the one person you should have been able to trust.

**********************

"You say there's nothing left and yet you are here."  
"I'm here because of the case." I say between clenched teeth.  
"Still so angry."  
"Oh, what amount of time would you have considered appropriate to get over the fact that the one   
you loved betrayed you and you were nothing but a little game?! A week? Three days? I'm really   
sorry that I still have to deal with it after a year!"  
He doesn't react to it. He never does. In all our »conversation«, it's always me who's screaming.   
With no response from his side, I deflate innerly. I close my eyes. I'd like to lean my head against   
the plexiglas wall, I can almost feel the cool surface against my skin.  
I can't leave it alone. I always have to push. I can't stop until my questions are answered. Until I   
understand. Until our »relationship« is lying before me disassembled and I can see it as Hannibal   
has seen it. Until I can believe that none of it was real. Until I stop remembering moments in which   
I was truly happy. Then he speaks, in a measured level voice.  
"You were the first person I wanted to be with. Get into my head. Emphasize with me. And then  
tell me I'm lying."

**********************

A colleague she went on a date with gets murdered. Jack doubles the officers around her house.  
Reba lies in my arms crying. Alanna tells me I shouldn't get too close. We end up nearly sleeping  
with each other. I feel horrible.

**********************

It's too much. I really can't stand it just one moment longer. How we're more and more starting to  
sound like a bickering couple after break-up. It's pathetic and messy. This is all taking too long.  
I shouldn't be here so much. I'm getting used to seeing him again. Why the fuck do I feel the need  
to tell him about Molly or the guys I'd been seeing. Next thing I'll probably start comparing them   
in bed.  
And he isn't better. Goading me with pieces of information and then shutting down completely, when   
I told him something he didn't like.  
If we'd be maybe spending more time actually working the case instead of taking stock of our former  
relationship, we might have caught Dolarhyde by now.  
But despite the best intentions every morning, I end up heading down the same road every time.  
And a little nagging voice inside my head wishes there was something he could do to make it up to   
me.

**********************

"Ms. Lounds. What a nice surprise. You know you're not allowed to be on this property?"  
"The public has a right to know what's going on here. Who knows, maybe you're getting your  
own feature, Mr. Graham."  
"Maybe I will." I smile at her. "Just answer me one question beforehand, Ms. Lounds. How would you   
like being the lure for the FBI again?"  
"Are you trying to scare me?!"  
"Oh, I don't think you're scared of anything in this world."

**********************

"You're the reason it happened!! You're the reason it's over!!"  
"You left me no choice!! Don't tell me you wouldn't have arrested me the first chance you had?! If  
I remember correctly that's exactly what you were trying to do!"  
"Well, thank god then, that I finally accomplished to do so!!"

We stare at each other for a moment. Frozen in position. I see his muscles bulge, straining   
against the limitations of his ties. And I only slowly start to grasp how close we've come to kissing.  
He looks at me clearly displeased by the restrictions of his moving range, yet at the same time   
like he's made a point. I'm dazed by feelings I can't even begin to label. My fingertips are tingling   
maddeningly and I feel like I've just lost at least 70% of my body control. And he gives me a simple   
question. No undertone. No subtle attempt to push me into a direction.  
"What do you need, Will?"  
It is May the 4th. I'm in the Baltimore State Hospital For The Criminally Insane in Baltimore,   
Maryland. My name is Will Graham.  
And I need to leave.

Alanna looks at me with those deep, worried eyes. "Will, are you feeling unstable?"  
I laugh out shockingly harsh yet genuine and say, not without a tinge of morbid amusement.  
"Yes, you can say that."  
"Can I help? Is there anything you need?"  
The most heartfelt answer would be "sex", not with her though.

I make it outside. I tell Jack that this was the last time I talked to Hannibal. Then I just keep walking.   
Concentrating on each step, ignoring Jack's calling after me. I get in my car. I drive for half a   
hour, then I stop at the first convenience store I see.  
I get a sandwich, a bottle of milk, a jumbo pack of dog food, and something that promises windows   
to look like freshly cleaned for months.   
On my way out I realise that I should probably call Molly to ask her if she needs something. Then   
I remember again that I won't be seeing Molly or Josh when I get home, neither my dogs. They're in Miami.  
I'm here. With Hannibal.

**********************

"Please come in."  
"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Reba."  
"It's no problem, really."  
We sit in complete silence, sipping our tea.  
"Deep down he's not a bad person." Reba suddenly says.  
"I know." I answer, because...I do.  
"How can you stop loving someone?"  
"You just have to really concentrate on the betrayal and the horrification."  
"How long will it take?"  
"Can't tell yet."  
She doesn't ask why I would know, why I can understand. Anyone who's able to read had seen our relationship   
splayed out all over the papers.  
She suddenly goes rigid, puts down her cup and then says in a very low yet perfectly clear voice.  
"I think there's someone in the room with us."  
I don't get up. My hand moves to my gun, while I process that the three officers outside are with certainty dead.  
"I would put that gun down, Special Agent Graham." A familiar voice tells me. I comply. Then I slowly turn around.  
"You should let Ms. Smith go."  
"She will be leaving later. With me."  
"Did she agree on those plans?"  
"Don't press you're luck, Mr. Graham. You're alive for the sole reason of me not wanting to displease Dr. Lecter."  
"Did he talk about me?" I realise that moment, both that Hannibal had been perfectly right with everything he told  
me and what exactly I've just said. I'm even more taken aback when Francis Dolarhyde's answer is positive.  
"I can assure you that I've come to learn a lot about you through the most refreshing correspondence with Dr. Lecter."  
He's really an eager little pupil. I can almost hear Hannibal in his choice of words.  
"Where do you and Hannibal take the right from, to decide about people's lives? Where do you take the right from, to   
fuck up Reba's life?!"  
"I love her! It doesn't matter where we'll go!" He comes closer, gun poised.  
"Francis, please!" Reba steps in front of me.  
"Tell me you love me, Reba!"  
"I love you, Francis." She sounds scared, nevertheless I hear the truth in her voice.  
"Do you think love will change anything? We're not in a fairy tale, Francis." My voice sounds bitter. "Love won't save  
you. Love saves no one. Love only destroys. Are you going to destroy Reba? Look at me. Look at what she's going to   
become."  
He does. And I think he can see it. He's used to pain, he can recognize it in others. For a second I see the human being  
hidden under the coils of the red dragon. Raw pain and the need to be loved. I think he really does love her and maybe...  
Maybe that means Hannibal did too. I don't dare going closer to that thought.  
"You're right." He mumbles and I don't immediately get it when starts pouring the Whiskey from the cupboard over the couch.  
But when I feel the heat of flames that flare up between us, against my face, I drag Reba outside. She stumbles over one of   
the corpses belonging to the officers outside, taking me with her, just when the house blows up behind us. He must have turned   
on the gas in the kitchen.  
She's still crying when we are carted of in one of the ambulances. I can see the flames dancing around the ruins, licking  
on the houses beside them through the small window in the back of the car.

**********************

"He's dead. This will be the last time you'll see my face in this life." I spit the words out and to my utter  
satisfaction see something akin to panic in his eyes, fleeting but there. He hasn't planned this. My feeling of  
victory is yet dulled by the knowledge that his reaction means it really wasn't all fake.  
He tries something like a smile and fails miserably.  
"So, it is goodbye then."  
"You're going to rot in here. And we will forget you ever existed."  
"You won't forget me, Will."  
I know I won't, but there's nothing else left for me, is there? I don't know what I expected to get from   
this ordeal. It's not like any of the things I learned make anything better. Or that knowing that they   
actually made some things better, does somehow help me. Maybe I just wanted to see him again.  
"Goodbye, Hannibal."  
Two times I've said it to him. One time he's said it to me. And ever since I've tried to pay him back for   
it. I'm finished. I'm free.

***********************

I look at my hands holding the two spoons, while the greens mix in the bowl. Molly is there beside  
me getting out the plates. She smiles at me and I smile back.  
And I wonder - Will I feel this way forever? Because what was between us was real, as real as it gets. He  
was all I ever could have. He got me. He ruined me.  
And I really wish I had kissed him.

***********************

"I assume you heard?" Bedelia takes her seat across his cell with the same natural elegance as  
if they were seated across each other in her house. He half expects her to offer him a glass of   
wine any second.  
"Of course. Is he already out of the hospital?" He asks with in a conversational tone.  
She answers with a nod to the question she's well aware is probably the sole reason he agreed  
to see her today.  
"Should we talk about your obsession with Will Graham?"  
"Isn't that a question you can answer yourself?"  
"So, tell me, Hannibal. Am I here for any higher purpose than entertaining you?"  
He gives her a smile that to others would seem genuine. She though can see the mock under   
the perfect politeness.  
"As always, I value your input highly."  
"I'm worried about you, Hannibal. I'm afraid this reconnection to your old life will destabilize  
you. Revive in you the wish to return to it."  
"I hope I haven't given you the impression that this arrangement is permanent?" He quirks an  
eyebrow in question.  
"Hannibal yours is a life-sentence. There's no chance for it to be revised. You are building castles  
out of sand. I hope your not entertaining foolish thoughts of escape?!"  
"Opportunity always presents itself."  
"Hannibal. You have to face reality. You're going to spend the rest of your life in here. Without   
Will Graham." She wrings her hands. He really has done nothing to deserve her affection and   
understanding.  
"I am a man of endless resources, Bedelia. And one of them is patience."  
"I am well aware of that." She offers him a genuine smile of amusement, speaking of the   
private joke shared between them. She knows he's dangerous. Has known for a long time. She   
knows there's no real emotional attachment to her from his side. She knows he might proof a   
danger to her one day. Yet she's too intrigued to stay away.  
"Till next time then, Hannibal."  
"I'm looking forward to it."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've read it, you might as well comment.
> 
> By the way, check out the other parts of the Story: (◕ฺ‿◕ฺ✿ฺ)  
> [Part **1** of Vegetarian Summer Entrées](/works/891224)  
> [Part **3** of Vegetarian Summer Entrées](/works/916123)

**Author's Note:**

> I would love comments ^-^


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